July 2023

15th

Friend visited this morning, happy to know she is successfully settling into the Scottish Borders. In the after we visited both grasskeeps, then Melrose, as we drove by St Boswells we noticed a Gypsy fair there on the village green.

Tonight I am at the farmhouse, editing this here website; behind me is a roaring open fire.

14th

At my flat all today, coding this website.

13th

Started the pendulum on my mantle clock today; the clock is now running after an oiling of the mechanism with 3 in 1 house oil. Last night, I took my new [used] singer sewing machine (made in Scotland between 1958 and mid 1963) to my flat. I plan to make curtains for the farmhouse, then summer dresses; and also some repairs to Charlie's clothing, should he require the help. It's a bright sunny morning today, the sheep will be happier and healthier, as I endeavour to write and code this here website.

Slept through most of the today, and I'm feeling unwell; I believe heavy vibrations from the grass strimmer are having a detrimental effect on the health of my body. Whilst using the strimmer my thoughts lull, after use, about two hours later I develop a headache and sleep for hours and hours. Nothing alleviates or overwrites the voices relaying spiteful messages, not blindness of dissociation or even serve persistences of Tinnitus I endure.

12th

Cleaned the farmhouse, the hover kept clogging up with brown dust; I am suspecting this to be one of the causes of Charlie's lung problems. Cleaning out the hoovers air filters, I noticed the dust reducing. I focused my attentions on ridding the living room of cardboard boxes, Charlie came home from work and remarked how nice the room looked without them. The rain poured down as I altercate between gardening and housework; the setting was peaceful, but my mind was noisy. I suffer a running commentary of negative messages, began a decade ago, after suffering much trauma whilst displaced as homeless. Today I am helping Charlie with his home, it's easy to stagnate, when dissociative, alone. Charlie finished work late, as we began to gather ourselves to pen the flock, rain poured down over the paddock. I call our two cade lambs, they came, followed as half of the flock, the rest, all but three, Charlie had baited the others in with ewe nuts. We needed to get the Zwartble ewe into the pen, being the source of the eye infection.

As the rain poured down, the ewe became confused between the direction of her three lambs and the gate (which led to her lambs) we were trying to get her to walk through. I slipped and slide on the paddocks steep incline, as we drew the Zartble ewe to the gate I grabbed her and pulled her back, escaping my grasp Charlie led her away as I closed the paddock gate. The remaining sheep, a tup and ewe we left, as we figured after time out, they would come to us. We use the rain to get the sheep to go into the poly tunnel, out of the wet, willingly, they are easy to pen here. We are using a white antibiotic, the ewes are injected with 3 mm whilst the lambs get 1 mm each. Charlie held the lambs whilst I filled the syringe, we marked each of the sheep with red paint after they had received their injection. Our cade lamb, who I've named Donna (after Donna Birrell the news reader) thrashed hard to be freed, a fighter, like me, I thought. As time pressed on the other sheep resisted less, completing the job before exiting, we opened the pen and exited, leaving the flock to shelter in the poly tunnel.

9th

Charlies rescue dog, Sam, attacked me this morning when I tried to offer him biscuits, only yesterday he attacked Charlie when he tried to get him into another room; Sams recent behavour is concerning.

Did some gardening today, blitzed masses of dock leaves with a strimmer, pulled out nettles and cleavers, trimmed back a shrub, and pruned a rose bush hedge. Charlie lit the incinerator before disappearing to work.

8th

Today, I accompanied Charlie to his workplace.

He works with cows, lots of cows.

The crusher keeps a cow still whilst tending to their welfare, but I don't agree with using the crusher for this.

A cow's milk is obviously better for the calf than substitute powered milk, and comparing the health of calfs there is a noticeable difference; but adoption (parenthood) should never be forced upon any creature.

Interesting to know that a cows ears lower when they are feeling unwell. Lambs are fed via a teat attached to a bottle, calfs use a bucket!

This one had a teat attached to what appeared to be a wine bottle.

Each of the three calfs took two bottles, the previous calf wanted milk from the turn of the calf thereafter, so a degree of patience is required when feeding.

The cow pictured below right is known as a Belgium blue.

Mullein, the plant pictured below is an expectorant, helping the body expel excess mucus, by helping make your coughs more productive. It is also a demulcent, creating a soothing anti-inflammatory coating over mucous membranes.

I found being around these cows calming, giving me perspective of just how erratic my disturbed mind is throughout the day. I was not bored or bothered whilst I waited for Charlie to finish his work.

7th

At midday, we, me and a friend, walked over Galalaw hillside, admiring wild flowers along the way.

I enjoyed the hillwalk, and hope I've burned some calories from the sixteen stone I now weigh.

6th

Slept uncomfortable on my fake leather sofa all night, non compos mentis to notice Charlie complaining against absence of presence. I am old, and cold, I feel for him at length knowing that I will never be warmed enough from the chilling emotional borderline personality disorder I endure; imprinted onto rationalisations from expectations that could almost be foreseen as social / emotional obligations of expressing mutuality. I know that there are parts of me missing, and this heartfelt troubles me significantly. During the afternoon I recieved a ting from facebook messenger, a neighbour had reported five lambs had escaped the farmhouse paddock and were baiting angry Scottish blackfaces along the lane. The message was unclear as to wether he'd returned the lambs back into the safety of the paddock.

5th

Today I took some walking exercise along Borthwick valley. After a walk through the grounds of Chisholme house, noticing pink and white woodland fox gloves, then down a hill, through grazing fields, I noticed the gate fastenings were made from wire. A few hundred yards along the Borthwick water I found an old disused church I'd seen many times, and recently photographed from the Roberton / Craik Forest road.

About a house adjacent to the church, there was a friendly Northumbrian couple [not Scottish although ancestrally they might very well be] tending to their garden. They talked about the old church once being a Youth Hostel, told of pony trekking through the valley, and that they had once been asked to be wardens for the hostel. The church is now being restored by another couple, who want to let the building as a holiday cottage, before relocating and retiring there.

Crossing Borthwick water I walked with caution over a bridge, a sign on the bridge declared the bridge to be an unsafe structure, recommending crossing for only one person at a time. The pain in my feet decided whether to continue in the direction of Roberton or walk back towards the Craik. The graveyard was peaceful, I took off my hat as I passed by because old customs of our people are important. I would have no mind for Christianity if generations of our ancestors psyche had not been scarred by the churches horrific self loathing doctrines.

I noticed a hundred or so sheep penned, with four cars parked outside a busy barn; I wondered if they were either these ewes were being sheered, or that they were being separated from their lambs. The mile or so walk was hard on my feet, I desired to walk further towards the Craik, but foot and ankle pain did not permit. To the farmhouse gate Charlie returned from work, noticing a sick Zwartble ewe. He brought down the ewe from her feet whilst I filled 3 mm of dark coloured antibiotic into a syringe; it pains me to witness the flock unwell. In the evening I found my new bathroom scales, purchased from Amazon, had arrived at my doorstep. I weighed myself in at 103 kg; then did a BMI calculation which stated I need to lose 30 kg+, a third of my body weight, because I am obese. I must have been heavier because I have lost some weight over the last fortnight; scary to know the BMI calculator suggested a visit to the doctors because I am now at risk of type 2 diabetes. Declining mental health, and not exercising enough, is to blame; I don't often over eat. I am determined to make the move to a more active lifestyle, starting today! Charlie came with winding clock keys and attempted, for two hours, to start my new pendulum clock. He found a key that almost fit and began to wind both the chimes and the hands. The clock is very simple, no fancy wood carvings, but the sound of the tick-tock and the striking chimes are endearing.

4th

We made a plan to travel to Galashiels and then to Selkirk after the auction we had planned to visit was another week away. Driving to Hawick along the Roberton road Charlie stopped to take a leak [his medication makes him go to the toilet alot] in a parking layby; looking out of the car window I thought "what the hell is this"?

Those who mocked Jesus put a reed in His hand as a mock staff to make fun of His “Kingship.” After mocking Him, they took the reed back into their own hands and began to strike Jesus on the head with it.

After picking up our friend in Hawick we travelled to Selkirk and visited Halliwell's House museum; was free entry.

2nd

Today we travelled to the second grass keep. Charlie penned all but one ewe, then sheared five ewes by hand. We had been waiting with some degree of patience for all the flock to enter the pen for feeding, today all but one came, so Charlie decided to close them in. The two tups were the last to come into the pen.

We quickly loaded them into the trailer to be returned to the farmhouse paddock. In the evening, Charlie diluted some Resolva concentrate weedkiller for me to spray onto our pandemic of dock leaves. I sprayed fifteen litres of this weedkiller to cover over most of them.

1st

Charlie wanted to shear sheep today, but noticing the changing weather I pushed for a drive instead; our west coast destination, Largs. From the Borthwick Valley we drove through Ashkirk, passing thought Selkirk, towards Peebles through the beautiful Yair Valley. We stopped to refuel at a café in Innerleithen, it reminded me of how I used to be, before I became terror programmed with psychological phobias. The theme of the café, must have triggered me into a panic attack because I misplaced my bank card more or less instantaneously on arrival, after leaving the café, searching the entire car, I emptied my handbag onto the table, surrounded by onlookers, I discovered my bank card in a small zipped pocket. A latte and a breakfast burrito soothed embarrassment, but paranoia lingered through thickening dissociative mist. Cross over the River Tweed we drove by Traquair House, through Cardona and into Peebles. Charlie wanted to buy me a colourful dress, as I only have black dresses now; but on entering Fat Face, I found and purchased a discounted black leather handbag. We searched the high-street but only found nice patterns printed on cheap nylon material. Driving past Neidpath Castle we arrived in Biggar at 2pm, side tracked from a café we entered the town's museum. Initially the museums' reception was informative, coherent and receptive; until a stigmatising "follower" came in the building and engaged, only minutes after we had begun our tour; from then on we appeared to be invisible. The museum staff refused to engage in conversation; unresponsive, as if I did not exist within the locality. This is a frequent discordance, from stigmatising inductions, that has seen me ostracised via being socially shunned, for years.

The museum was fascinating, inside there was a model of a palace that never existed, the architect's aspirations far exceeding financial budget. There were models of hill forts, tower houses, before we entered rooms, that had been turned into timeless shops. We found some of the antiques presented within these rooms were also present in the farmhouse. Leaving the museum we entered the café to purchase a takeaway coffee, the animosity was incredible; considering we'd never visited this establishment before; we don't even live in the area, so where does the impression come from? As we connected with the M74, side lining Glasgow towards the West Coast, I reluctantly supped my coffee into a twisted stomach; rung out from the sense of self. After sixty miles drive we reached the North Ayrshire west coast; the reflective light from the sea here is cleansing, and the airy breeze fresh. We passed Hunterston B powerstation, and journeyed along a coastline road through Fairlie; I remembered walking this length some months ago. Arriving in Largs we parked our car, Charlie sidelined towards a Costa cafe, desperate to use a toilet. Waiting I took some pictures of the ferry leaving for Millport island.

I felt edgy against public walking about Largs, we searched for a place to eat, settling for a busy Belhaven pub named the "Droughty Neebors". There were no seats at the front of the pub, we seated at the rear, and ordered fish and chips. The food was of good quality, staff were rushed but coherent, an obnoxious drunken woman disrupted the functioning of the pub, as an inebriated monster singing and shouting through the rear door and then on from the garden. Leaving Largs, exiting the car park we noticed the pay machine had broken down, this took the registration plates of veichles and was supposed to bill drivers on exiting the car park. We decided to drive south, along the coastline untill the road turned towards Kilmarnock. We drove into Saltcoats, passing the golf course where an isolated hapless birthday ended, inside a tent last year.

Noticing an Aldi and Iceland I requested Charlie (unnerved by the "car over the harbour edge" warning signs) to stop the car enabling me to take a picture of the sea from along the harbour wall.

Leaving, we passed by a solitary Ned who had pulled up against the harbour wall in a tiny car. We drove to new Cumnock, as a bus stopped picked up an elderly male hitch-hiker, then dropped him off in Sanquhar. I remembered this town, not just from a visit to the museum here, but from being dropped off and propositioned for acts of fellatio from a railway worker who had given me a lift. We stopped in Thornhill, Charlie returned from the shop with ice cream and coffee. We drove to Dumfries, then to Lockerbie, Charlie took the road to Langholm, but reversed when I found a quicker way to Borthwick valley through Eskdalemuir forest. We stopped at the Tushilaw Inn, I had told the barman yesterday evening that we'd be returning today. A man standing outside, sighting us, told his female friend to hush before turning to enter the pub. We sensed revulsion from a geordie family at a table and two men seated at the bar, as we ordered a pint of beer. I strongly ordered bottled larger [Tennants] as the house draft larger had curdled my stomach to projectile vomit one night about a week ago.

We'll not be returning there; at least in this life, and hopefully not even be in sight of this establishment in the next life. Fifteen miles from the farmhouse, we could have hardly called this dire establishment our local pub, being far too obscene. t felt good to close the farmhouse gate on our journey, and shut the door and close the curtains on a day. We'd spent too much time on travelling.